A Jagged Pulse
by fluffyarianna
Summary: This is what happens when Paramore fans become zombies.
1. Chapter 1

The black pavement glistened as a sudden drizzle of rain fell from the sky, forming large pools of water near the curb of the parking lot. Taylor lifted his hood and threw it over his head carelessly, quickening his pace all the while. He shoved his hand into his back pocket, searching for his car keys. It was always difficult to remember where he placed anything after long plane rides. It took about 4 ½ hours to travel from Los Angeles to Taylor's hometown of Nashville, Tennessee, and he had many more important things to think about on the plane ride than where he placed his car keys.

Taylor found his keys deep in his front right pocket just as he approached his car. He unlocked the door, swung it open, and plopped his small, black suitcase inside. Slamming it shut, he walked to the driver's door, pulled it open, and sat down on the leather seat. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he was sitting there, alone, in the parking lot. Intending to sit there for only a moment, he left the door open wide and closed his eyes. He leaned back in his chair.

This particular trip to Los Angeles had been especially difficult for Taylor to endure. It wasn't that it was necessarily bad. In fact, he had gotten a lot of work done with his band mates. They were finally working on their fourth album after all the preparation in the past months. No, it wasn't that his trip was altogether worthless. It was just that he was completely stressed out from all the fans recently. Somehow, they seemed much more obsessive than usual, if that was at all possible. He couldn't go anywhere without a random fan on the street pestering him with questions in a nagging little voice, asking him about the album, or complaining about how Hayley promised the album to be released soon. He loved Hayley, she was definitely a great friend to him, but sometimes he wished she didn't tease the fans so much. It would definitely save him a good deal of trouble.

A loud honking noise caused Taylor to open his eyes. Adjusting his rear view mirror, he saw that a large, navy blue minivan had been waiting to take his parking spot. Taylor jumped up from his seat, shut the door which he had left open, and started the engines. As he began to back up, he waved towards the other driver, attempting to apologize. The other driver, who appeared to be in a great hurry, furrowed his brow and looked away, eyeing the now completely open parking spot.  
As Taylor sped out of the parking lot and onto a ramp leading to the highway, he couldn't help but think about the fans again. Something had changed that caused them to act differently. That had to be the case. Taylor usually loved the fans, and never minded answering their questions from time to time. He loved talking to them and hearing what they had to say. But now, all they would ever talk about with him was their complaints. It was strange.  
Before he had even realized it, Taylor found himself pulling into his front driveway. The rain had stopped now and the sky was pitch black. Only a few street lights dimly lit up the street in the silent Nashville night. Taylor switched off the engines and pulled the key out of the ignition. He stepped out of his car and embraced the familiar air of his hometown.

Even though he was only away for a few days, there was never anything compared to the feeling of being home again. He loved Nashville, and every time he came back, he felt that he loved it even more. He even considered tweeting something out to the fans about being back home again, and then disappear from the internet for a month or two as he always did, but he figured that he would save that for another day. He just wanted to get some rest for now.

He walked up the front steps of his house, anxious to get inside. As he shoved his key into the keyhole of the big brown door of his house, something moved in the bush by his door.  
He spun around and stared at the bush. It was the only area of the garden which was not neatly trimmed. The branches stuck out wildly in different directions, and the leaves were dark brown and crumbling. He stared at the bush for a moment. Nothing happened. Taylor might have shown just a bit more interest if he weren't so jetlagged. He pushed his front door open and stepped inside. He climbed the stairs straight up to his bedroom and immediately slumped onto his unmade bed.  
The moment he sat down, something buzzed in Taylor's back pocket. He groaned. It buzzed again, and then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He flipped it open and saw that he had two new text messages from Hayley. He pressed a few buttons and the messages appeared.  
_Hayley: taylor_  
_ Hayley: can u check for any zombies outside ur house?_  
Taylor groaned again and hit a few buttons on his phone. He managed to type out a reply.  
_Taylor: Not in the mood for this_  
He slid his phone closed again and tossed it onto the other side of his bed. Almost immediately, the phone buzzed again. Taylor was amazed at how fast Hayley was able to reply to his messages.  
_Hayley: im serious_  
Yet again, Taylor slid open his phone and quickly typed a reply.  
_Taylor: I am too_  
He paused. He genuinely hoped she had something important to tell him, and that he wasn't staying up any longer than he needed to.  
_Hayley: have u checked yet?_  
_ Taylor: No._  
_ Hayley: what about now?_  
_ Taylor: No._  
_ Hayley: plz?_  
Taylor rolled his eyes and turned off his phone. He flipped off his light switch and crawled under his bed covers. Finally, he would have some peace.


	2. Chapter 2

Hayley Williams never knew that she could run so fast. But there she was, running as though someone had set her ass on fire, through a thicket of trees by her house. It wasn't everyday that a group of fanatical zombies chased her out of her house and into the woods, but perhaps that is why today was not everyday. However, it was pretty much everyday that Hayley tripped over nothing but her own two feet when she was walking, or in this case running. That is precisely what happened as she attempted to escape a dreadful fate with a pack of wild zombies.  
Trying to stand up, reached her arm out and got onto her knees, but one of the zombies had already caught up with her. Clutching at the leg of the approaching zombie, Hayley resisted with all of her remaining effort. The zombie merely growled at her, and then it grabbed her by the arm. She was surprisingly light and easy to lift for a weak, bony little thing like the zombie to carry. Probably since she was such a midget.

Hayley knew precisely what the zombie was preparing to do. It was going to bite into her flesh and eat her brain. She closed her eyes, waiting for her imminent death.

"Wait!" someone cried.  
The zombie immediately let go of Hayley and she fell hard onto the ground.  
"Ow..." muttered Hayley under her breath, managing to stand up off the ground and brush some dirt off of her legs.  
"Wait," said the voice again, "I want her alive."  
Hayley followed the sound of the voice with her eyes and turned around. Behind her stood a tall hooded figure grasping the arm of the zombie, which was now cowering in fear. It was the first time that Hayley could have a good look at the zombie which had caught up to her. It was female, very young (probably a teenager), and her face was a nasty shade of vomit green. Two long, bony arms extended from the sleeves of a raggedy old sack. Blood was already flowing out of her open mouth. She must have recently fed.

After a moment or so, the hooded figure released the arm of the zombie,

"Take her to the lair," a man's voice whispered from under the hood.

Immediately the zombie grabbed Hayley by the leg, tugging at it until she fell onto the ground again.

It dragged her deeper into the forest for what seemed like hours, until Hayley blacked out and she could not remember a thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Jeremy grabbed the remote control sitting on the arm of his sofa and pointed it towards the television in front of him, flipping the channel. Nothing was on. Still. As he muted the TV, Jeremy wondered why whenever he actually wanted to watch TV, there was never anything on worth watching. He yawned and stretched his legs out onto the coffee table in front of him.

"Why is it that you never do anything besides watch the telly?"

Jeremy turned around and watched as Kat, his wife, walked into the room.

"Well, I wasn't really watching it," mumbled Jeremy with another yawn.

Kat laughed and kissed Jeremy on the cheek. He felt her lips brush against his bearded face and he smiled lazily.

"Jerm, come to bed."

Jeremy groaned. Kat slipped the remote controller from his hand and quickly shut the TV off. He groaned again.

"I don't want to go to bed," he whined.

"I know, but I want you to," Kat whispered in his ear, giving him another kiss. When she pulled away, he looked straight into her eyes, and she looked back. She flashed him a smile.

"Okay..." he said, starting to smile back. He grabbed his giggling wife by the waist, swept her off her feet (literally), and carried her across the living room. It was dark and the only source of light in the bedroom was the crack at the door when he walked in. Jeremy closed his eyes as he noticed the alleviating smell of Kat's just washed hair. If only every day could be like this.

Carefully, Jeremy let go of Kat, and allowed her to gently slip from his hands and onto the bed. But someone was already on it.

"AUUUURGGGGHHHHH!"

"I tried to put you down gently, Kat!"

"That wasn't me," shrieked Kat as she rolled off the bed and dove straight into Jeremy's chest.

Jeremy stumbled backward against the wall. He blindly felt for the light switch and turned the lights on.

Lying atop a hot pink comforter was a slimy green zombie boy, striking a slightly seductive pose.

"Jeremy, I've been waiting for you," he hissed through grimy, yellow teeth.

Kat shrieked again and lifted a trembling finger towards the green beast.

"What is that... _thing?_"

Jeremy was speechless. He had no idea what to think. All he knew was that he hated that "thing" which Kat had so frighteningly pointed out. He hated it with all his heart. The one day that he had a chance to spend some alone time at home with his wife, someone had to always go ahead and ruin it.

"Hey kid, if you think this is funny, it sure as hell isn't! I'll call the cops on you!" shouted Jeremy as soon as he finally came to his senses.

The boy simply laughed. Unsurprisingly, the young prepubescent boy's voice was incredibly high pitched and scratchy, and his laugh was very similar to that of a hyena. It sort of unnerved the couple as they watched the vomit green boy continue to explode with laughter. Rolling and flailing, the boy attempted to grab hold of the ends of the bed to keep himself steady, but instead he flew off and hit the ground with a thud. The laughter stopped.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The boy was lying, lifeless on the floor. His eyes were closed tight.

"Oh my god, is he dead?" Kat whispered.

"I don't know," said Jeremy. He stepped closer to the boy.

"Maybe he's a junkie. Maybe that's why his face is green," said Kat, peering over Jeremy's shoulder as he knelt down and reached his arm out towards the boy's face.

"I think he's wearing makeup. He was trying to scare us," said Jeremy. He felt the boy's face.

Suddenly, the boy's eyes opened and he snarled. Immediately, Jeremy jumped back in surprise. The boy laughed once more, this time not a high pitched laugh, but a deep, dark, maniacal laugh. The pupils of his eyes had turned a dark velvety color and a drop of drool fell from his mouth as his eyes darted back and forth from Jeremy to Kat.

"Thou shalt pay the price for taunting The Master! Once the prophecy has been completed, I shall be the ultimate Master!" cried the boy, thrusting himself off of the ground and onto Jeremy.

"Kat get out of here! Call 911!" cried Jeremy, struggling with the boy, who was now clawing at Jeremy's bearded face.

"No!" Kat tried to say, but her voice was drowned out by Jeremy's screams.

It was all a blur. Everything was blur. Someone green was on top of someone else. Someone let out a shriek of pain. And then the green someone gnashed his teeth against the other someone.

"Wait!" Kat cried.

She grabbed the zombie boy by his neck and pulled him off of Jeremy. The boy flipped around on the ground, but Kat knocked him back around again. Bang. A punch. Bang. Another punch. Green blood oozed from the boys nostrils. Bang. A third punch. The boy was cowering with fear. Kat was about to throw in another punch, when Jeremy grabbed her by the wrist. She looked around, bewildered at both what had just happened and what she had just done, and stared straight at her husband. He stared back at her.

"Okay... okay..." was all Jeremy managed to say through heavy pants as he let go of her wrist.

"I'm sorry," said Kat. A hot tear streamed down her face, "I'm so, so sorry."

The two stood in the room in complete silence for what seemed like an hour, trying to regain their breath. They watched the unconscious boy lying on the ground. His dark green bood continued to ooze out of him, staining the once immaculate white carpet.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," said Kat finally, wiping another tear from her eye.

"No, Kat. You saved my life."

They were silent again. There was nothing to say. What could they say? Someone tried to kill them. Jeremy still couldn't quite figure the boy out, though, even as he stood watching him at the dead of night. He had felt the boy's face, and he definitely wasn't wearing any kind of face paint or makeup he had ever seen. Jeremy suspected that the boy was another crazy Paramore fan that had somehow managed to break into his house, until he saw the way the boy's eyes lit up in an eery, almost ethereal shade of red. The boy might have been wearing colored contact lenses. But still, there was something about the boy that made a cold shiver run down his spine.

"Okay," said Kat at once, "We should call the police."

"What? Are you crazy?" said Jeremy.

Kat turned around to face her husband.

"This is obviously some crazy pothead stalker boy! He tried to kill you! What else are we going to do with him?"  
Jeremy shook his head.

"Look at this kid. He's not human. He's-God damn it, what is he? He's a-" Jeremy's eyes widened, "Well, he's a zombie! Duh. How couldn't I have realized it?"

Kat let out a snort.

"How couldn't you have realized it? _How couldn't you have realized it? _Jerm, do you even understand what you're saying? This is real life, not a film! Jerm... JERM! Are you even listening to me?"

Of course Jeremy wasn't. His thoughts were somewhere else entirely. He had an idea. It was a stupid idea, yes, but it was an idea.

"Yes, yes, babe. Of course I'm listening. Let me take care of it," said Jeremy after a moment or so. He grabbed the boy by the arms and pulled him out of the room.

"Get some sleep," said Jeremy, "Don't even worry."

Kat watched as Jeremy dragged the boy all the way out of the room. He dropped the boy on the ground, and the boy's head hit the ground with a thud.

"Oops," said Jeremy.

Kat raised an eyebrow.

"Heh," said Jeremy.

He closed the door behind him, and he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

A thousand miles under the Earth's surface, at the center of a seemingly infinite maze of hidden tunnels and passageways, beneath endless mounds and heaps of long forgotten skulls and broken bones of humans who had once ventured down beneath the Earth's crust, there sat a hooded figure cradling a sleeping child in his arms. No, she was not a child by human standards. She was a 23, nearly 24, year old human girl. But compared to the dirty, rotten beasts that roamed around the gloomy tunnels and poked their glowing red eyes at her in the dark as they passed, she was but a fetus. These rather cryptic creatures appeared to be teenagers from their outwards appearance. They even acted like teenagers. Savagely, they would roam the Earth streets every single night, in search of human flesh to feed upon. They would take and take and take, they would kill even when they had had their fair share of food for the night, just for entertainment. They would snatch babies from their mothers. Blood from homeless men who slept on park benches. They had no mercy.

But this hooded man, who was now rocking back and forth with the red headed girl lying helplessly in his arms, was capable of mercy. Perhaps it was because he was not like the others. Or perhaps he was exactly like the others, and he was just intellectually their superior. No one actually knew. No one ever saw his face. They would never see him during the daytime, when they came back from their nightly hunt. They had to be sure that they would never face the sun. If they did they would melt. They had no time to pay attention to the hooded man.

Still, they could speculate. Many thought that he simply locked himself in a dungeon when daylight came; sure to never let the sunlight seep through the surface and onto his already hooded face. Others believed that he went to the surface. That he was a daywalker. The hooded man knew exactly what his beasts thought of him, but he did not mind. He knew that they would never revolt. He had too much power. He knew too much.

Suddenly, the girl's eyes opened. She tried to scream, but her mouth was gagged and her arms were tied. The hooded man allowed the girl to see a flashed smile from underneath his hood. The girl could not see the man's face completely, but she could tell that he was not a pale green like the others. In fact, he seemed very human to her.

Then, the man spoke, in a very low, almost forced deep voice.

"Hello Hayley," he said, stroking her hair.

Hayley did not say anything. Her deep green eyes simply twinkled with annoyance as she stared up at the man, completely helpless.

"Yeah, I know, you can't talk," said the man, smirking.

Hayley rolled her eyes.

"Always an attitude, Hayley. I really do know you so well."

Her whole facial expression changed. Her eyes flashed a brief look of confusion. She stopped struggling in the man's arms.

"Yes, I really do know you. And you know me. Not that I'm going to tell you who I am, of course. No, no, no. Be patient."

The man smiled again. He continued stroking her hair, as his other hand slowly began to pick away at the knotted rope tied around Hayley's hands. He sat there silently untying the knot for a few minutes, until her hands were completely free. Hayley didn't move.

"Why can't I just kill you right now?" said the man, tossing the rope aside. He glared at her with a new light in his eyes. His once soft, gentle, merciful glance turned into that of a murderous evil genius.

Then, the feeling went away and he smiled yet again.

"Oh, right. The prophecy," the man laughed deeply, "Yes the prophecy. That little thing."

He shook his head, still laughing, as he pulled out the gag from Hayley's mouth. She did not say anything. She was speechless.

"I'm going to have to have them take you away," he said in a sad mocking whisper, as he leaned into her ear, only inches away from her, "I'll make sure they don't eat you. Not yet at least."

He pulled his hand away from her hair and she quickly stumbled from out of his arms. She landed on the ground on her knees. There was silence.

Hayley looked around. She was in a large space that was only lit by a few dark red torches hanging from the jagged, rocky walls of the cave. She was sitting on a tall stony pedestal, and at its base there was a monstrous throne made entirely of stone, which the hooded figure was sitting on. She looked back out at the cave again. It didn't really seem to be a cave by first glance. It seemed like something much more; it was damp and lifeless, yet she could feel the sense that it was crawling with evil, devious creatures. It was something she had never really even seen before. It was like a long, lustrous field of grass that went on eternally, but instead of lustrous it was rather black and gloomy, and instead of grass there were shards of fragmented stone and old, dusty bones.

But that wasn't what scared Hayley. What was most frightening were the people. Or zombies. She wasn't quite sure what they were. She imagined they must be zombies. Or maybe she just watched too many zombie movies. Either way, these creatures were crawling up and down the walls of the cave, and all of them were staring directly at her.

Hayley jumped when the hooded man spoke again.

"Look at them," he said.

He glared around at all the beasts, and they glared back expectedly, snickering, their eyes glowing a deep red that stood out within the darkness.

"You have to pity them. They can't think. They just work. They kill."

The hooded man smirked.

"They're forced to steal others' brains because they don't have their own."

He laughed, and the zombies followed in his lead. Soon, the entire cave was filled with the sounds of thousands of high pitched squeals, as each creature howled with laughter. As soon as Hayley spoke for the first time, the cave grew dead silent immediately.

"Is – is this a joke?" she said, her voice trembling from disuse.

The zombies' attention was brought back to Hayley again, and thousands of tiny, beady red eyes darted towards her again greedily. The hooded figure took a step towards Hayley and he stared straight at the back of her neck.

"No, it is not a joke, Hayley Nichole Williams," whispered the man coldly, "And you will surely realize that it is not a joke when Jeremy Davis and Taylor York are dead, and the ritual has been completed."

Hayley turned around stared back at the man in shock. The rest of the zombies began snickering wildly again.

"Take her to the dungeons," the man sneered, spinning around and sitting back down on his throne again, as a dozen zombies eagerly jumped down from the walls and grabbed hold of Hayley from every possible direction.

She tried to scream for help. Of course no one could hear. She was thousands of miles below Earth's surface. Her voice was drowned out by the sound of a thousand high pitched, hyena laughs. They were taking her down to the dungeons.


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of the gate clinging shut echoed across the dungeons as Hayley managed to maintain her balance in the dark. She listened to the slapping feet of the barefoot guard treading up the filthy spiral staircase which she had been dragged down.

It seemed like she had been dragged everywhere today. Of course she was used to it. Wherever she went, she was dragged along. When she was a teenager she never felt like she was truly in charge of her life. Kids threw things at her, pulled on her band t-shirts until they ripped, pointed at her worn at jeans and laughed, called her a lesbian when she was not. The only thing she had ever truly done that made her happy when she was younger was join a band.

But she wasn't really happy. In fact, when no one was looking, she would cut herself. That's what she thought she deserved. Maybe that was what she deserved. But the truth was, everyone knew that she was sad back then. That she was depressed. No one cared.

God, it pained her to think of those times. But it was times like these (when she was locked up in a dungeon thousands of miles below the Earth's surface) that she couldn't help herself. So many people told her they loved her. She realized now that they were all lying. All of them. All of the millions of screaming fans. They were all lying. They just wanted her to sing for them. They wanted her to dance onstage for them. They wanted her to be their puppet.

And she was okay with that. If that meant being accepted, then that was alright. It was funny how the fans truly believed her posts on Livejournal and Tumblr. That they believed she was happy. Every minute of every day. That she was satisfied. It was just so funny. No, it wasn't funny. It was disgusting. How could they feed off her like that? It was simply disgusting. She was just what they wanted her to be. Maybe everyone felt that way. She had no clue. She was just one person. How was she supposed to know how other people felt?

What was more, those idiotic fans wouldn't stop going on about Josh Farro. For some reason, no matter how much Hayley tried to suppress him from her memory, to keep him as far as possible from her, he would always come crawling back to the front of her mind again. Those long nights back in Franklin. The way he kissed her like no boy had ever kissed her before. His large brown eyes that stuck to her like glue. She was so convinced that he was in love with her.

Too many lies.

Josh never really loved her. She convinced herself so many times that he truly loved her. She convinced herself that she was in love with him.

And she was in love with him. Maybe he was even in love with her for a time. Not anymore.

It had been two years since he left the band. Since _they _left the band. She had to keep reminding herself that Zac left too. For some reason the thought of Zac leaving didn't pain her as much, even though she thought that she had stopped caring about Josh a long time ago.

Hayley wished she could tell Josh everything. Despite the fact that she had not talked to him for a year, despite the fact that he was married. She wanted him to know what all of those songs were really about. She wanted him to know that he didn't really hate him. But he wouldn't care. He never cared.

The truth of the matter was that Hayley never actually loved Josh back. He made her feel good. For a while, at least. He filled up her veins like a drug, empowering her to keep living, to keep feeling healthy and happy as though nothing were wrong. As though she weren't conflicted. But did she really love him? Well, of course not. Hayley didn't think she truly knew what love was.

And then there was Taylor. Hayley didn't know what to think about Taylor. She definitely knew what he thought about her, though. He wasn't capable of hate like the others, no. So he didn't exactly hate Hayley. He didn't view her as a puppet like the others. He was just her friend. She wanted to be so much more with him. But she had to hold herself back. If the same thing happened with Taylor as with Josh... She couldn't even bear the idea. She cared about Taylor too much.

Hayley didn't understand why she was so sad. She shouldn't have been complaining. Her life was amazing. Her fans didn't view her as puppets. What was she thinking? They loved her. She had to stop telling herself these things. She didn't care about Josh, or what he thought. She missed Zac. She really, really had to stop lying to herself. It had been years since she last cut herself, since she had such hopeless, dark thoughts like these. Why was she thinking like this?

No. She was happy with her life now. Even if she had just the tiniest of crushes on Taylor. Yes, a crush. That was all it was. After all, who wouldn't have a crush on him? He was so kind, so sweet, so cute. Such a gentleman. Whichever girl ended up with him would surely be very lucky. Or boy. It didn't matter to Hayley.

She was happy with her relationship with Jeremy too. He was the greatest friend she ever had. Even if she couldn't tell him everything she felt, even if talking about her love life was awkward with him, he could make her forget. When she was with him, she never thought about her silly, pointless little problems. He made her laugh. Why couldn't she find a guy like that?

A pang of guilt shot through Hayley's chest. She had forgotten about Chad. Oh, why did she have to be such a bitch to Chad? She loved Chad. Yes, she did. She just forgot him. That was all. Just for a minute, she forgot him.

Suddenly, Hayley's train of thought was interrupted as the sound of zombie feet came echoing down the staircase outside her cage. This time, the footsteps seemed quieter.

Hayley ran to the edge of her cage and grabbed hold of the bars hopefully. Maybe it was someone coming to rescue her.

She was disappointed when she saw a little green zombie girl emerge from the stairs with a faintly glowing lantern and a tray of crackers.

The girl did not say a word. She simply waved at Hayley. Hayley did not wave back, but she watched carefully as the little girl pulled out a key from her back pocket and opened the door to her cage. Hayley backed away as the girl pushed open the gate and scooted inside. The girl seemed almost scared.

"Hello," the girl said quietly.

"Hello..." said Hayley. Her voice was hoarse.

The girl handed Hayley the tray and she took it reluctantly. She took one of the crackers on the tray and slowly raised it to her mouth. The girl watched as Hayley took a bite of the cracker and make a face as she forced herself to swallow. The crackers were stale. It hurt her throat as she swallowed the remaining crumbs.

She forced a smile as she put the rest of the cracker down on the tray.

The girl spoke again, this time with a bit more confidence.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Hayley froze. She wasn't sure whether it was a trap, or a joke. She stared at the girl. Just then, she noticed the girl's shirt. She was wearing a Paramore shirt.

Hayley wanted to laugh. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Yes. Yes of course," she said simply. Her voice was still hoarse.

Her face remained expressionless, the little zombie girl pocketed the key again, and walked towards Hayley very calmly. Then, she pulled out a sharpie marker from the same pocket and handed it to Hayley. She turned around.

Hayley moved the girl's long braided hair to the side. Quickly, she scribbled down her signature on the back of the girl's t-shirt. Then, she capped the sharpie, and the girl turned around again. She grabbed the pen from Hayley's hands.

Without a word, she exited the cave, carrying the lantern with her and taking out the key from her back pocket again. She closed the front gate so carefully that Hayley could only hear a faint _cling _as it shut. After she locked the door, she smiled shyly one last time at Hayley, and then she rushed up the stairs again in a hurry.

Hayley watched the girl run up the spiral staircase until she could no longer see her body. Now all she saw was the faint glow of the lantern bouncing upwards in circles endlessly, farther and farther away, until the dungeon grew dark and quiet once more.


	6. Chapter 6

A slither of light wriggled through the tiny crack of the closet doorway as the sun reached the horizon line outside. Jeremy opened an eye. A gust of wind came through the open window, gently tugging at Jeremy's unkempt beard and swirling down his neck as he began to stretch out his arms with a yawn. Another gust of wind shot through the window, this time with much more force, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand still, and both of his eyes to open wide.

He was lying on the matted carpet of Kat's walk-in-closet, with his legs outstretched on the encircling shelves, and an unconscious boy sprawled right on top of him.

"Gah!" he shouted at once, shoving the boy off of him and getting to his feet immediately. The boy tumbled over to his side, flailing around a bit, but still asleep. He was a pretty boy; he had light brown hair and pale white skin, and he was rather skinny too, but something was definitely very pretty about him. There was also something incredibly familiar about him too, though Jeremy could not put his finger on it. Then, Jeremy remembered last night.

After his encounter with the insane zombie boy, Jeremy had dragged the boy's body across the hallway and into the closet, where he had planned to keep him locked away for quite a long while, at least until he could convince Kat that he had gotten rid of the boy. He wasn't actually completely sure what happened after that. All he could remember was walking inside the closet. Then it appeared as though everything went black. And now, as he watched the little pale boy squirm around like a worm in his sleep, he realized (feeling slightly stupid) that this boy was obviously the same boy that he had carried into the closet the night earlier.

Jeremy thought that he should probably check if the boy were okay, it was beginning to unnerve him how much the kid was wriggling and squirming around like that.

"Uh, kid?" Jeremy croaked, poking the boy with his pinky finger nervously. The boy flopped to his side, but he did not open his eyes at all. In fact, he let out a loud snort, and then fell silent again.

Coming down to a kneeling position this time, Jeremy grabbed the boy by the shoulders and shook with all of his might.

"Dude wake up!" he cried in utter frustration. Jeremy was taken aback when the boy's eyes shot wide open. His eyes were a pale crystal blue, a color which Jeremy had never seen before, and they gazed straight up at him. Jeremy let go of the boy and jumped back fiercely, knocking a few of Kat's leather shoes from the shelves as he backed off into the opposite corner of the closet.

"I'm warning you, don't you dare hurt me!"

"Hurt you?" cried the boy, his eyes widening as he looked around the room in bewilderment, "Who are you?"

A stream of salty tears began to trickle down the boy's cheek as he attempted to stand up off the ground, but he fell back down to the ground again with a thud. Another fresh stream of tears cascaded down his face again. He flashed another look at Jeremy.

The boy's eyes were truly beautiful. They seemed hurt, but still beautiful. It seemed as though he genuinely had no idea where he was, or why he was there, and from the dart of his eyes and the way in which he cowered in fear, Jeremy understood. The boy was really just a boy, and that was all that he was. Whatever it was that had happened last night, was beyond this boy's control.

The kid had stopped crying. He was sitting completely still, staring straight into Jeremy's eyes. Nothing stirred in the house. Then, as slowly as he dared, Jeremy brought his hand to his side and, using both arms to lift all of his weight up, managed to bring himself into a squatting position. This did not scare the boy in the slightest. Jeremy smiled.

The boy blinked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," said Jeremy softly.

Again, the boy blinked.

"You're Jeremy aren't you?" whispered the boy.

Jeremy was shocked. He stood up all the way and gaped down at the boy.

"Yeah, my name's Jeremy. How'd you know that?"

The boy laughed. It was the first time that Jeremy could hear the boy's voice clearly, and for once the boy didn't seem all too frightening. His voice didn't seem like that of a hyena, and his voice was certainly much deeper than it was on the previous night.

"Dude, I listen to your music! I love Paramore! Hey wait a minute, where am I?" said the boy, looking around suddenly, as though he had just awoken from a dream.

"Well, uh, you're kinda in my house," said Jeremy, trying to hold back laughter, "I don't really know how you got here, you just showed up! What's your name again?"

"Chester," said the boy, trying yet again to get up off the ground again, and this time succeeding. He seemed to be properly balanced at this point, and he seemed to be coming to his sense, so Jeremy grabbed Chester's hand and shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Chester," said Jeremy, "I think I have to bring you to a hospital or something now."

Chester grabbed Jeremy's hand in return and shook back.

"Yeah, can you?"


End file.
